A Fight For Life
by Isadora The Whovian
Summary: Marcia's hacking cough will not go away, so finally, after weeks and weeks of living with it, she finally listens to Milo and goes to the Wizard Tower to get it checked out. She isn't expecting anything really, just for Dandra to prescribe her something and send her on her way. To Marcia's shock, she is diagnosed with lung cancer, and Dandra tells her that she's dying.
1. Diagnosis

A/N: Here it is! A Fight For Life, as promised. I wasn't intending to start it out this way, but there really wasn'y another way I could think of to start it. If something seems wrong or off, or there are tons of spelling/grammar mistakes please tell me. I'll fix it and update it straight away. Anyway, A Fight For Life I got from the fifth piece of my Five Times story. Basically, it's Marcia's struggle with cancer and the obstacles that arise along the way. I've no idea how long this is going to get, and I hope to have updates up swiftly so no one has to wait too long. But unfortunately, my creative writing teacher wants a multi genre project from me and she's not allowing me to do it on Marcia, because our topics have to be real life. So I dont know how quickly I'll be able to get up the updates, or even right the next few chapters.

Disclaimer: Septimus Heap and Company belong to Angie Sage.

Read and please, please review! Reviews make the writer happy!

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><p>Marcia Overstrand was seated on what was now Septimus's sofa in front of his fire, her feet curled under her and her fingers playing with the silver whistle around her neck. Normally she wouldn't dream of intruding in on his space, but she needed somewhere quiet so she could think. She also wanted to be alone. What better place to go than to the ExtraOrdinary Wizard's rooms when he wasn't there? She stared into the <strong>Magykal<strong> fire, its colors too cheerful for the mood she was in. She wanted to forget, about her cough and what she now knew it meant. But Dandra's words kept running through her head.

"_Marcia," She began, "You've had this cough for nearly a month. Why didn't you come see me sooner?"_

"_It's just a cough, what harm can it do?" _

_Dandra sighed sadly. She really did not want to share the news she was going to need to share. "Sometimes, Marcia, coughs can lead to big problems." _

_Marcia paled a bit. "What do you mean? It's not serious, is it?" she asked, only the slightest hint of panic in her voice. _

_Dandra opened up the file she was holding and handed Marcia the top most picture. "I found these in your sample." Dandra looked away, knowing Marcia would realize what it was in the picture and not wanting to see her reaction when she did. _

_She took the picture, recognizing what it was almost right away. Her hand covered her mouth, and her entire body went rigid as her stomach dropped and an icy emptiness consumed her. "No…"_

"_I hate to say it, but you have lung cancer. Stage III." _

Marcia shut her eyes.

"_Why didn't you come see me sooner?"_

"_I hate to say it, but you have lung cancer. Stage III."_

She hugged herself tightly, her nails digging into her skin. The pain was a welcome distraction from the emptiness she was feeling inside.

She hadn't thought the cough was that serious. It was only a cough. She only went to the Wizard Tower to get it checked out because Milo kept insisting, and because she was starting to cough up mucus. Oh, why hadn't she gone to Dandra sooner? The tumor would have been a lot smaller, and the surgery Dandra had talked about would have been possible. She wouldn't have to go through chemotherapy, if that was what she decided to do, and she probably wouldn't be dying. How was she going to tell Milo? And Septimus? What about Alther?

She was so caught up in trying to get Dandra's voice and her own thoughts out of her head that she didn't hear the purple door to the apartment swing open.

Septimus walked into his apartment, and almost immediately he sensed Marcia's presence. He also sensed that something was wrong, although no **Magyk** was needed for that. If Marcia was here, then something had to be wrong. Otherwise she probably would have been waiting for him in the Great Hall. "Marcia?" he called out as the door shut behind him. If she heard him, she didn't acknowledge him. He walked into his sitting room and found her curled up on his sofa. "Marcia?" he tried again.

She opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder at him. "Did you need something?" she asked absently, her fingers once again playing with her whistle. She was looking at him, but not at him. There was a faraway look in her eyes. Almost empty, he thought.

He recognized her movement; she used to fiddle with the amulet whenever she was nervous or frightened, or didn't know what to do. He stepped around the sofa and sat next to her. "Is something wrong?" he asked worriedly.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She closed her eyes tightly and tried again. "I—yes, you could say there is."

Septimus wondered if it might have been something Milo had said or did. Marcia trusted him, but Septimus didn't. "Did Milo do something?"

That broke her out of her far away state. "What? No! He—"she swallowed, "I've had this terrible cough the last month or so, and the other day he made me go and see Dandra." Marcia couldn't help it, she laughed bitterly. "I got the results today. I wasn't expecting the outcome."

Septimus felt his stomach knot up with worry and concern. "What did Dandra say?"

Marcia knew she had to tell him. She stopped playing with her whistle and clasped her hands tightly in her lap, purposefully looking away from Septimus. It would be best to just say it outright, like ripping off a Band-Aid. "I'm dying." She said, her voice void of emotion.

Septimus's eyes widened. "What?" he gasped.

Marcia looked at her hands. "Lung cancer. If I had gone in months ago, than it wouldn't have been as serious as it is now. The tumor's too large to remove it with surgery, and the cancer has already spread to my lymphatic system," she explained quietly.

Septimus touched her arm sympathetically, feeling as if the floor had disappeared out from underneath him. "Is there anything that Dandra can do?" This wasn't fair at all. Marcia couldn't die, not now, not any time soon, not ever. She had a long way to go before she could even be considered an old lady. Besides, he didn't want to lose her. He didn't exactly know how to explain his relationship with her, but she was very important to him, like Alther had been to her.

Marcia finally looked him in the eye, and he saw the tears in hers. "There's chemotherapy. That's the most effective, Dandra said. If we can reduce the size of the tumor she can remove it. At least, I think that's what she said. I can't remember. I tuned out halfway through her speech." She held out her hand for him to take, and he did, squeezing it tightly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, a single tear escaping confinement. "I have a week to make a decision, of what I'm going to do. She wants me to talk it over with Milo, but I don't know how to tell him."

She had told him easily enough, Septimus thought, just throwing it out there like that. She probably wouldn't want to do that when she told Milo. But was there really any good way to tell someone you had cancer? That you were dying? "Do you want me to go with you?"

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Go with you, to your Keep, help you tell Milo."

She shook her head. "No, I can do it. I think."

He had one last question to ask her. He'd go talk to Dandra about everything else once Marcia had left, in order to better understand what was going on and how he could help her. "Are you going to go tell Milo right now?"

"I should, shouldn't I?" she ran her hand through her hair. How? Maybe she should just say it outright, like she had just done with Septimus.

He agreed with her. "Yes, you should." he helped her to stand, and she began to cough. He summoned a glass of water from the kitchen, and she accepted it gratefully, taking a sip.

"Thank you," she told him as her coughing subsided. She was thankful it wasn't like some of her other coughing fits, the ones that left her wheezing breathlessly and ended with a tissue full of mucus. The ones she would be having more of in the future.

"It was nothing. I'll walk you to the Way, yeah?"

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><p>Marcia took a deep breath as she emerged from Way VII and into her Hub. She slowly began to walk up the spiral stairs, and found Milo on the ground level, in the sitting room. He was sitting in his old armchair, coffee and paper in hand as if everything in the world was normal. She couldn't help but tear up. Nothing would be normal for them anymore, not after she told him her diagnosis.<p>

"How did it go?" Milo asked without looking up. When she didn't answer him, he looked up, and took in her emotionless expression and her trembling hands. His stomach dropped. "How serious is it?" he set his coffee and paper aside, standing up. She moved closer to him, and he met her halfway. She had to look away as he neared her, and he gently took her hands in his. "Marcia?" He ducked his head to try and meet her gaze.

"Dandra says—" she had to stop, unable to continue right away. She was going to tell him as she had told Septimus, outright like ripping off a Band-Aid. "Dandra says—" but she couldn't force the words out of her mouth.

"Marce, what is it?" he let go of one of her hands to gently lift her chin so that she was looking at him again. He then tucked a stray curl behind her ear, and let his hand linger on her cheek.

Both of her hands gripped his so tightly she left marks in his skin with her nails. "Lung cancer," she managed to say.

An icy fear coursed through him and gripped Milo's heart. "What?"

Now that she had told him, she began to ramble in an effort to explain it all to him. "It's too late for surgery because the tumor is too large and that means I'll have to undergo chemotherapy and I don't want to, I really don't want to and—"

He interrupted her by embracing her tightly, the only thing he could think of to do, and held her as close to him as he could get her. She slowly wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I'm dying, Milo. I'm _dying,"_ she whispered brokenly against his chest.

A tear or two dripped from his eyes and into her hair. "It'll be okay. We'll get through this," he whispered back, kissing the top of her head.

It was then, hours after she had gotten the fateful news, when Marcia finally burst into tears.


	2. Alther Comes To The Keep

A/N: Second Chapter! I'm not really sure how well I like this chapter, but I wrote it and it seems to work, so here it is. Very quick update! Isadora doesnt have a life! Well, she does, but she doesnt want to do her portfolio. I have no idea why I'm talking in third person. Anyway, read and review! And please, please tell me if something is wrong and I'll fix it!

Disclaimer: I dont own. Septimus Heap and Company belong to Angie Sage.

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><p>Alther slowed as he neared the tall, cylindrical tower that was the Keep. He had seen Septimus walk Marcia to Way VII yesterday, and when he had questioned Septimus about why Marcia looked as depressed as she did Septimus had told him that Marcia would want to tell him herself, and that he should go to the Keep in a day or two. So here he was. Septimus, he knew, would already be here. If something was wrong with Marcia, Septimus wouldn't leave her on her own, even if Milo was there. Alther summoned his strength and <strong>Passed<strong> **Through** the door to the Keep. Right away he heard voices from the sitting room. He floated in slowly, greeted by the sight of Milo and Septimus conversing quietly.

"She didn't sleep too well last night," Milo was saying, handing Septimus a cup of coffee.

"I wouldn't expect her to. Not after news like that. Does she know what she's going to do yet?" Septimus asked.

"She doesn't want the treatment. I'm trying to convince her otherwise, but she ignores me."

Alther cleared his throat and both of them turned their heads to face him. "Would you like to tell me just what exactly is going on with Marcia?" he queried, moving closer to them.

Septimus bowed his head, and Milo sighed. It was no use waiting for Marcia to tell him. She was denying it furiously. "Marcia's dying. She has lung cancer," Milo told him.

Alther did not react as Septimus and Milo had. He sighed, as if he had known it all along. "I'd wondered when the diagnosis was going to happen," he said calmly.

He succeeded in confusing both Milo and Septimus. "What do you mean?" Septimus asked.

Alther knew that Marcia would be furious with him for sharing why exactly he sort of knew, so he answered with, "Marcia had an…accident…when she was my apprentice. She was exposed to various chemicals and gases. I've always wondered if she would eventually be diagnosed with lung cancer, or another type of cancer."

Milo realized what accident Alther was talking about (Marcia had had a couple of them), and closed his eyes. He didn't know the full extent of this particular accident, but knew that it had changed her greatly. She couldn't connect with him after that, and shortly after broke up with him, preferring to deal with her thoughts on her own. She had told him very little about what had happened, but she had mentioned chemicals and testing.

Septimus had no idea what Alther was talking about, but he didn't question it.

Alther glanced towards the stair case. "Is Marcia upstairs?"

Milo nodded. "Yeah. I think she's asleep," he told him.

"Do you mind if I go talk to her?" Maybe he could convince her to take the treatment. He didn't think he could, Marcia was very good at arguing her points, but he would try. She had the rest of her life to live. She couldn't die now.

"Go ahead; she might prefer you to either of us."

Alther floated over to the stairs, and then up them towards the top, where Marcia's bedroom was located.

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><p>When Alther reached her bedroom door, he knocked softly.<p>

"Go _away_, Milo." Marcia sounded very irritated. He went through the door anyway. Marcia didn't hear the door open, but she did sense the presence of another person in the room, so she sat up and looked over. Her expression softened when she saw that it was Alther. "Oh, Alther, I thought you were Milo," she said sheepishly.

He smiled softly. "How are you feeling?" he questioned, moving closer to her until he was sitting right beside her.

Her eyes welled up with tears. "Did they tell you?" she whispered.

"Yes, they did," he said softly.

She wiped at her eyes, forcing the tears back. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling," she confessed. "I'm dying, and there's just this icy emptiness in me."

He placed his ghostly hand over hers. "That's normal," he told her gently.

She looked down at their hands, and then to him, her eyes large and vulnerable. "What do I do, Alther? I want to live, but I don't want the treatment and Dandra says that's the only path I can take if I want a good chance of survival."

He offered her a kind, sympathetic smile. "That's all up to you, Marcia," he said, moving his hand to brush her hair away from her face. He used just a bit more ghostly **Magyk** just to make the action actually work, and she was thankful for the comforting gesture but he wasn't being very helpful in helping her decide.

"You're not being very helpful," she muttered, looking away.

He sighed. "What does Milo and Septimus want you to do?" he asked, trying something a little different.

"They want me to do the chemotherapy." She didn't hesitate in telling him, and wrinkled her nose as she said it.

"And do you want to do that?"

Alther always seemed to know what to say, what to ask. But she didn't know what to answer. "No. Maybe, I don't know. People say that the cure is worse than the disease." She paused, and a brief silence ensued. Then she spoke again. "I'm already dealing with this cough and the chest pain. I don't want to be nauseous, or fatigued all of the time, or in constant pain—I don't want any of it."

"And you want to live?"

Yes, he definitely knew what to ask. He was much more helpful than she had thought, and was helping her organize her thoughts. She did want to live. She finally had all she had ever wanted, and things were going so smoothly—she also didn't want to leave her little family behind. "I do. More than anything I do."

"Then you know what you have to do, don't you?" Alther said, his question more of a statement.

She didn't speak right away. He was right. Why was he always right? Hesitantly, she asked, "You'd all be there for me? If I decided to take the treatments?"

"I don't know how much I'll be able to do, being a ghost and all," he joked, trying to find at least a little humor in the situation.

He succeeded in getting her to smile. "That wasn't what I meant and you know it!"

He chuckled and patted her knee. "Yes, I will be. And so will Milo, and Septimus, and everyone else who cares about you."

Her smile disappeared. "Who else is there?"

Alther gave her a look. Did she really not know? "Dandra, and Jenna, and Silas—"

She interrupted him at the mention of her least favorite Heap. "Silas? Really, Alther!" she turned back to him, her mouth set in a harsh frown and her eyes narrowed. If he was trying to be funny, that wasn't the way to do it.

"No, I'm serious. He cares about your well-being. All of those years ago, when you were in Dungeon Number One, he was very concerned for you," Alther told her sincerely.

Marcia's frown started to fade. Was he really? "He never said," she said softly.

"He didn't want you to think he actually cared. You'd never let him hear the end of it," Alther teased her.

She laughed, but had to stop as it turned into a small coughing fit. Luckily it ended quickly. She smiled. "No, I wouldn't."

"My point is that you'll have a lot of support," Alther finally went back to the serious tone he had had before. So did Marcia, and her smile faded completely as she thought everything over once more.

It was completely silent until she said, "I think I'm going to take the treatments."

Alther smiled and got up, hovering a few inches off the floor. "Are you going to go tell the guys downstairs?"

"Now? Yes, I am," she decided, and she too got off her bed and then followed Alther down the stairs.


	3. Day One of Treatment

A/N: Part 3 is here! Took me a little bit, and its kind of long, but I'm actually happy with this chapter. Oh and I forgot to mention this takes place a year or so after Pathfinder, so lets pretend Pathfinder didnt end with the whole egg problem. Agh spoilers sorry to those who havent read it yet. But if you havent, you really should. Anyway, Tod will be in this story, and I think she's somewhere around 13 for the purposes of this story.

Yeah, so this is basically day one for Marcia's treatment.

Disclaimer: I dont own, obviously. Septimus Heap and Co belong to Angie Sage.

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><p>Marcia was pacing around their bedroom, picking things up and putting them back, and messing with her hair and her whistle. Milo knew she was trying to delay going to her appointment. "Are you ready to go?" He asked her from his spot in the doorway. She stopped abruptly and turned to face him, looking at him as if he had sprouted another head.<p>

"What?"

"Are you ready to go to your appointment?" he asked again.

She shook away the thoughts that he had interrupted with a small shake of her head. Then she looked around the room. There was nothing she could do to stay just a tiny bit longer. "As I'll ever be," she told him sadly. She picked up her bag, a medium-sized black one, and walked past him and out of the room. Milo followed her down the stairs. She still wouldn't talk to him about how she was feeling. All she had told him was that she was going to try the chemotherapy. She stopped him in the Hub. "Um…Do you mind if I go by myself?"

He sighed. She wasn't even going to let him go with her. "Marcia, I don't think—"

"Just this first one. Please? I'll go to Septimus's rooms after, and you can meet us for dinner," she tried hopefully. She wanted one last act of independence before the treatments, one act without the effects of the chemo clouding her mind. Maybe she'd be able to sort her thoughts too. Milo had hardly left her side since she had told him, and really, it was starting to irritate her. She was dying, yes, but at the moment she could still do things for herself. He could hover later; she didn't want or need that right now.

Milo sighed again. "Alright. But just this one, okay?" He didn't want her going through this alone.

She smiled a little. "Okay."

He leaned closer and kissed her cheek. "See you at dinner, Marcia."

She nodded her head and then turned to go through Way VII. He watched her until the swirly white mist enveloped her completely, and then turned around to go back upstairs. He already knew he'd be counting down the remaining hours until dinner.

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><p>"Did Milo not come with you?" Dandra asked as Marcia followed her into the infusion room.<p>

"No, I asked him not to," Marcia told her. She set her bag down next to the hospital bed and sat down.

Dandra shook her head disappointingly as she began setting up the IV. "You really should bring someone with you to your treatments, Marcia. Especially the first few." Marcia didn't know how she was going to react to the chemotherapy; she could be fatigued beyond belief and not able to get home on her own. It was very important that she bring someone with her. But, knowing Marcia, if Marcia didn't want anyone with her then no one was going to come with her.

Marcia was already tired of people telling her what she could and could not do, but she tried very hard not to snap at Dandra. "Milo will come next time," she said firmly. Dandra only sighed and motioned for Marcia to hold out her hand. She slid the tip of the IV catheter effortlessly into Marcia's most prominent vein in the back of her hand, and then held it in place as she taped over it and hooked on the IV. Marcia winced.

"We'll begin with a saline solution and then move on to the pre-meds before we start the chemotherapy, and then end it with another round of the saline solution, alright?"

Marcia focused on a spot on the wall. She chose not to look at Dandra, even though Dandra was trying to catch her eye. "Let's just get it over with," she muttered.

Dandra patted her friend's hand. "I'll be back in a bit to change the IV," she informed her. She wished she could stay and offer her friend some company, but Marcia obviously didn't want any at the moment and besides, she had other patients to attend to.

After Dandra left, Marcia kicked off her shoes and reclined back against the pillows. Then she shut her eyes, pretending she was anywhere but there.

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><p>Unfortunately, Marcia could not pretend she was somewhere else after the IV had been switched to the chemotherapy drugs. She couldn't focus on one of the books she had brought either. She decided instead to use the remaining time of her treatment to sort her thoughts. First and foremost: she didn't want to die. She really, really did not want to leave Septimus and Milo behind. There was always the option of becoming a ghost, but if she died because of the cancer…A ghost remained as they were on their last day living. If she died, she'd be weak and unable to do much of anything. So, if she did become a ghost, would she even be able to <strong>Appear<strong> to anyone? No, it wasn't doing any good to think along those lines. She wasn't supposed to get upset during treatment. The best option she had was to fight the cancer with all she had, and never pass up a moment she could spend with Milo and Septimus. Which meant she had to bring Milo and/or Septimus with her to all of her next appointments, and she had to let them know how she was feeling. She didn't like that aspect too much; she had never been one to really talk about her emotions. Normally she kept to herself. She couldn't do that now, she realized. She had a husband now, and Septimus—well, he was like her son. They were a family. And cancer didn't just affect one person, it affected the group.

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><p>"Congratulations, Marcia. You've finished your first session of chemotherapy," Dandra said cheerfully, handing Marcia a glass of water.<p>

Marcia coughed a little as she sat up, and gratefully took the water from Dandra. "The cure is definitely worse than the disease," she grumbled, coughing more as she set the water down. Her head was spinning, and she was finding it hard to focus on any one thing for too long.

Dandra helped her off the bed even though she didn't need it and Marcia slipped on her shoes. "Are you going to be alright getting home?" Dandra asked worriedly as her friend swayed a little on her feet.

Marcia steadied herself. "Yes, I'm going upstairs to Septimus's rooms. Milo is joining us for dinner. Although I don't think I'm going to be able to eat."

"That's to be expected unfortunately," Dandra said sadly. "Do you want help getting there?" Dandra worried about the stairs. Chemotherapy normally made people nauseous and, well, the spiral stairs spun so fast, even on a lower setting. Maybe it wouldn't be a problem for one or two floors, but Marcia would be going up fifteen.

Marcia waved her away. "No, no. I've got it. I think Septimus was going to meet me down here when this was over anyway," she informed Dandra, picking up her bag. "When's my next appointment?"

"Same time next week," Dandra reminded her, following Marcia out. She didn't follow her all the way to the lobby though, and as Marcia continued on her way Dandra could have sworn she heard Marcia mutter, "I'm going to really hate Thursdays."

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><p>Marcia found Septimus in the lobby, waiting in one of the waiting chairs. It looked as if he had been waiting there a long time; his eyes were closed and there was an open book in his lap. She put her hands on her hips. "Septimus," she called loudly, waking him. He sat up immediately and the book fell to the floor. "How long have you been waiting for me?"<p>

The tips of his ears turned red. "I didn't want to be late," he murmured apologetically, standing up and taking her bag from her.

"Thank you."

Septimus frowned when Marcia swayed a bit, so he held out his arm to her without saying a word. She didn't hesitate, and slipped her arm through his. Septimus kept her steady the entire way to his rooms. The stairs, luckily, weren't a problem. At least not yet, Marcia thought. She knew the after-effects of the treatment were only going to get worse.

They made it the twenty first floor without any problems, and the purple door recognized them both and swung open, eager to please. It shut behind them when they entered the apartment. Septimus led Marcia over to his sofa. "Why don't you lie down," he told her, helping her onto the cushions. She didn't need his help, not yet, but she didn't say anything. He was only trying to make her comfortable.

"That's probably a good idea," she agreed. "Where's Tod?"

Septimus handed Marcia the large, fluffy purple blanket that had been folded up near the sofa. "She's sending a letter to her dad. I figure that she'd be back in time for dinner."

Marcia wrapped the blanket around her and snuggled deeper into the couch. "Milo will be joining us as well," she informed Septimus.

"Good thing I anticipated his arrival then." Septimus grinned. "I cooked this time," he said proudly.

"I'm not a big fan of syrup Septimus, you'll have to remake it," she teased.

"Hey, that was just that one time!" He protested.

She laughed, and soon he was laughing too.

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><p>Septimus was setting the table with Tod when Milo arrived. The door, having been Marcia's door for a very long time and knowing she was already in the apartment, had swung open for him. "Good evening, Septimus, Tod," Milo greeted them.<p>

Tod opened her mouth, ready to tell Milo one of her dad's newest fishing stories she had received in the mail, but Septimus spoke before she could. "Later, Tod," he told her quietly, knowing what she wanted to say, and knowing that right now all Milo wanted to do was see how Marcia's treatment had gone. "Marcia's on the sofa. Tell her dinner's ready, will you?"

Milo nodded. "Thank you, Septimus." He gave Tod a smile before leaving the kitchen and entering the sitting room.

He approached the sofa quietly, not wanting to wake her if she was indeed asleep. She was. He wanted to ask her how her treatment had gone, and how she was feeling, anything to ease his worries and his nerves, but he didn't know how to begin. He shook her shoulder gently as he knelt down beside the sofa, and she blinked open her eyes.

She spoke after a moment of silence. "I hate Thursdays," she told him bluntly. He didn't really know how to respond to that, so he just chuckled and reached out to stroke her hair away from her face.

"Did you have a nice nap?" he asked.

"I wasn't asleep." She frowned as she sat up and looked around. Septimus was no longer in the room. Maybe she _had_ fallen asleep. He raised an eyebrow at her statement, but she ignored it. "When did you get here?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Not even five minutes ago. How was it?"

She sighed and pulled the blanket tighter around her. "You're coming with me next time."

He grimaced. "Was it that bad?"

"No. I was bored."

He knew she was lying, but he appreciated the fact that she was trying to lighten up the mood. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, leaning forward slightly to kiss her forehead. "Dinner's ready," he told her, relaying Septimus's message.

"I'm not hungry," she murmured.

"Are you going to at least join us?" he asked.

She sighed and unwrapped herself from the blanket as she sat up. "Yeah." She held out her hands to Milo, and he took them, intending to pull her up and off the sofa, but she suddenly began to cough and it wasn't one of the smaller coughing fits either.

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><p>In the kitchen, both Tod and Septimus could hear her coughing. It was very scary for Tod (and Septimus, although he didn't show it), particularly because the last time she had heard anyone cough like that was her mother before she died. It sounded as if Marcia was hacking up her lungs. Tod turned to face Septimus, wide-eyed.<p>

"She's only coughing, she'll be fine," Septimus told her, although he seemed very unsure of himself. He kept his eyes focused on the doorway even though he couldn't see into the sitting room from where he was standing.

"Are you sure? My mother used to cough like that, and she died," Tod replied.

"Marcia doesn't have the Sand Sickness Tod," Septimus said gently, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. He was about to say more, but it sounded as if the coughing was getting worse and they both stopped to listen, watching the doorway.

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><p>Milo could do nothing but hold out the glass of water for his wife and hand her tissues as she coughed. And coughed, and coughed and coughed. He now sat beside her on the sofa, rubbing her back soothingly and hoping the coughing would soon stop. He hated the sound of it.<p>

Finally though, after what seemed like ages, Marcia's coughing began to ebb and she was able to take a sip of the water. He took the tissues from her dutifully as she did so, and when she put the water down she was gasping for air. "Shh, just breathe," Milo soothed.

The first thing she said after gaining back her breath was, "Maybe I'll get lucky and cough up my lungs." She laughed hoarsely.

"That's not funny, Marcia," Milo scolded.

She sighed. "Yes, but if I coughed up my lungs then at least the cancer would be gone."

He sighed too. If it was physically possible for her to cough up her lungs and not die, then yes, her cancer would be gone. He didn't want to think about her cancer anymore than he had to though. "You ready?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, I am."

This time when he helped her off the sofa, she didn't break down into a coughing fit.

* * *

><p>Septimus breathed a sigh of relief when they finally heard the coughing stop. "See Tod, she's alright," he told his apprentice.<p>

Tod wasn't so sure. There was something he wasn't telling her. She wondered what it was.

She didn't have too long to think on it however because soon Milo and Marcia entered the kitchen.

"Do you have a non-syrupy dinner for us, Septimus?" Marcia asked him, her tone teasing.

"Yes, actually, I do." Septimus was relieved that she was feeling well enough to joke with him, and said nothing about her recent coughing. He could tell she was grateful for his silence on that subject to.

Tod was going to ask Marcia about the coughing, but her comment about the syrup made her pause. "Non-syrupy dinner?"

"When Septimus was my apprentice, he—"

Septimus laughed nervously. "Can we not talk about that Marcia?" he pleaded.

She only laughed. "Alther shared all his stories about me with you, It's time I share some of mine about you with Tod."

Dinner was spent with Tod and Milo laughing at Marcia's stories, and Septimus blushing with embarrassment as he ate his food.

Marcia's stories distracted Tod from asking about her cough, and Tod didn't even notice how Marcia didn't eat any of her food, and instead pushed it around on her plate with a fork.


	4. Friends (kind of, not really)

A/N: Part four everyone! Time skip ahead a week or two. I dont know why, but for some reason I cant write everyday stuff continuously. Plus, if I did that, the story would be really long. It spans a few months, after all. Anyway, in this chapter Silas talks to Marcia about her cancer, as a friend (sort of). Can I just say that one of my favorite things in the series was Silas's and Marcia's sibling rivalry? Oh, and I'm going to dedicate this chapter to my cousin Ellie because she wants to murder me for writing this story. Hope you're still reading Ellie!

Thank you everyone who's reviewing and reading this!

Disclaimer: Septimus Heap and Co belong to Angie Sage.

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><p>Silas Heap was on his way to the Wizard Tower when he saw Marcia walking away from it. She was thinner than she was the last time he saw her, he noticed. "Marcia!" He called out loudly. He wanted to talk to her, to see if she was feeling alright. Alther had told him that she had cancer, but he hadn't gone into detail.<p>

He could tell even from the distance between them that she was rolling her eyes at him. She changed her direction, and was now walking toward him. "I do hope you don't feel obligated to talk to me whenever you see me, or whenever I'm in the Castle," she replied as she neared him.

He shook his head no. "Not at all."

She stopped a few feet away from him. "Then why are you talking to me?" she asked.

"Alther told me," he informed her quietly.

Her shoulders sagged a little. "Oh." She had figured that Alther would tell Silas sooner or later. She held up her hand as he opened his mouth to continue. "I am feeling fine under the circumstances and no I do not need yours or Sarah's help with anything and if I ever did no I would not ask you for it." she answered his unspoken questions before he could ask them.

He hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "Silas, I am dealing with it just fine."

Classic Marcia attitude, he thought. Ignore the problem and call it dealing. "Just to talk, Marcia. I'm sure you've already talked it over with Milo, Septimus, and Alther numerous times—"

"That's all they ever want to do is talk," she muttered darkly.

"—but I think you need another perspective. You've got husband, son, and father but I don't think you've talked to a friend," Silas continued.

Marcia's cheeks turned red when he referred to Septimus as her son and Alther as her father, but she didn't call him out on it. After all, he wasn't exactly wrong. "I've talked to Dandra," she told him firmly.

"Dandra's also your doctor, she doesn't count," Silas retorted.

"Are you calling yourself my friend, Silas?" she asked, amused.

He sighed. She was never going to let him forget this in the future, he could tell. "What do you think, Marcia?"

"Fine," she conceded. "Where do you want to talk?"

"We could get some tea at Sally's café," he suggested hopefully.

Not the worst option, then. They'd only have to be careful with what the people there would hear. Especially Sally. In Marcia's opinion Sally was the biggest gossip in the Castle, and Marcia didn't want everyone in the Castle knowing she had cancer. "Tea sounds very good right now, actually," Marcia replied truthfully.

"Tea it is then." Silas held out his arm to her.

She raised her eyebrows skeptically. Was he really expecting her to accept help to Sally's café? "No, Silas. I am not taking your arm."

"You're slightly unsteady on your feet—"

"Then I will remain unsteady the entire way to her café." She uncrossed her arms and strode past him, leaving him no choice but to follow her to their destination.

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><p>Much like the last time Marcia and Silas had showed up at Sally Mullin's café together all those years ago, Sally was just the slightest bit suspicious. To her knowledge, Marcia disliked Silas very much, and for Silas the feeling was mutual. But Silas had been seemingly obsessed with Marcia when she had been Alther's apprentice, and in her first few years as ExtraOrdinary Wizard. She wondered why they would be doing anything together. The Castle wasn't in danger, was it? If it was they probably wouldn't be coming here. Well, that one time they had. But they had also been running away from the Hunter and his pack, and they had had children with them. There were no children with them this time. And why was Marcia swaying slightly on her feet?<p>

Sally met them just outside the doors to her café, and, just like the last time she had confronted the both of them, she completely ignored Marcia and talked to Silas first. "Please don't tell me she's slightly tipsy," Sally said, referring to Marcia's unsteadiness.

Silas found it funny that Sally would think that, so he laughed. Marcia glared at them both. "I am not drunk!" Marcia hissed angrily. Silas shrugged, and she shoved him, tilting her head toward Sally, implying she wanted him to explain.

Silas recovered quickly and stopped laughing. "No, Sally, Marcia's not tipsy. We came for tea," he explained. Marcia continued to glare at him, her arms crossed.

Sally eyed them warily. "You two came here for tea? Together?" she asked.

"Friends sometimes do that Sally," Silas said cheerfully.

Marcia rolled her eyes.

"Friends? The two of you?" Sally sounded very skeptical.

This conversation was never going to end if Marcia didn't do something. She intervened before Silas or Sally could say anything else. "Look, Sally, I'm pressed for time. If you could get us a table and two cups of tea, please?"

"Right, okay." Sally didn't really know what to think of Silas and Marcia willingly spending time with each other, but she showed them to a table anyway.

"How bad is it?" Silas asked once Sally had set their tea down on the table in front of them and left.

"Stage III lung cancer. Apparently I've had it for a while, but it's hard to discover until the later stages. In other cases, there is an option for surgery, to remove the lobe of the lung with the tumor on it, but my tumor is too large. Dandra thinks the chemotherapy might shrink it. If it does, the surgery is a valid option and if it doesn't, or if the tumor grows, then nothing. That's it. It's over." Marcia explained it all emotionlessly, and nearly all in one breath.

Silas frowned. That wasn't what he had in mind when he had asked if she wanted to talk. He had hoped she'd share what she was feeling, not ramble on about what Dandra thought.

"I've got months unless the tumor shrinks or Dandra procures some kind of mystery cure. Months, Silas." She laughed humorlessly. "My life is ending. Now, after everything is finally going smoothly for me."

Silas pushed the fear down. Months, only months. That's all she had. "How are Milo and Septimus taking it?" Silas asked, taking a sip of his tea.

Marcia sighed and decided to just tell him everything. He was there to talk, not hover. "Milo won't leave me alone for five minutes, and Septimus I think is pretending that its not actually as bad as it is," she admitted.

"So they're denying it."

She sighed. "Yeah, they are. That's what makes it so painful, I think. I'm not necessarily ready to die, I'd like very much to live and I will fight this cancer, but I need them to accept the fact that it is very possible that I might die. And they aren't doing that."

She was confusing him. "If you want to live so much, why are you so positive you're going to die?" Silas asked.

"I've had many, many close calls with Death before, Silas, and I've gotten lucky every time. That luck is bound to run out sooner or later. I have a gut feeling that it will be this time," she explained.

"I hope it isn't," he told her sincerely.

"I do too." Marcia took sip of her tea, made a face, and then put it back down. "Sally puts a lot of sugar in her tea," she explained when she caught sight of Silas's confused expression.

"Does she? I never noticed."

"You've got a sweet tooth, like Septimus," Marcia replied.

Silas grinned. "Well, he is my son."

Marcia nodded her head, a small smile threatening her features. "Thank the Heavens he didn't receive your stupidity as well."

Silas chuckled. "Thank you, Marcia, for that lovely insult."

Her smile grew, but before she could say anything else, she started to cough. Luckily it wasn't one of the more major fits. Startled, Silas looked around for something that might help her, but he couldn't find anything.

Fortunately, Sally heard her and came over with a small glass of water. "Are you alright, Marcia?" she asked, setting the water in front of her.

Marcia took a small sip of the water. "Yes, yes I'm fine," she lied. She wondered if Sally had heard any of her conversation with Silas. "It was only a cough, Sally." _Only a cough. _How many times was she going to tell herself it was only a cough?

Sally gave her a wary look. "Marcia, forgive me for the intrusion, but it didn't sound like only a cough."

Marcia set the water down on the table and met Sally's look with a look of her own. "Sally you are one of the biggest gossips in the Castle. If I had something to tell, why would I tell you?" she asked.

Sally couldn't help it. She grinned. "Good point."

Marcia gave her tea a disappointed look and then took another sip of the water. She could feel another headache coming on, and Milo would no doubt worry if she didn't return to the Wizard Tower any time soon. "How much is it, for the tea and the water?"

"Its on the house. I know something's up with you even if you aren't saying anything," Sally answered.

Marcia didn't like how people treated her differently; they did it when she was ExtraOrdinary Wizard and they did it now because she was ill. "I can't let you do that," she told Sally.

Silas knew both women were so stubborn they'd keep this up until the other caved. "I'll pay for it. Marcia, you did say you were pressed for time. Maybe you should head back to the Wizard Tower."

Marcia sent him a thankful look as she stood up. She couldn't let Sally just give it to her, but Silas…yeah, he could pay for it. It had been his suggestion to go for tea, after all. She swayed only a little and steadied herself with a hand on the back of the chair. She took a moment to regain her balance, and then she was off, out of the café and heading back to the Wizard Tower.

Silas and Sally watched her leave, and once they could no longer see her Sally sat down in the chair Marcia had just occupied. "Spill," she ordered Silas.

Silas shook his head. Sally would be getting no information from him today. If Marcia had wanted Sally to know she would have told her. He knew Marcia preferred to keep things to herself. She was only going to tell people who needed to know.


	5. Treatment 4

A/N: I've been spending my time writing this story instead of doing my homework...oops. Anyway, Here is Chapter 5! This Chapter and Chapter 6 (which will hopefully be up tomorrow) both take place during the same day. This one is the morning/afternoon, and the other will be afternoon/evening. Enjoy, Read and Review!

Disclaimer: Septimus Heap and Co belong to Angie Sage. I no own, sadly.

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><p>Milo didn't want to wake her. She looked so peaceful when she was sleeping, and he knew she hadn't been sleeping too well lately. Unfortunately he had to, for she had an early morning appointment with Dandra. He moved closer to her side of the bed and reached out, moving a strand or two of hair away from her eyes. Then he gently shook her shoulder. "Marcia, wake up," he whispered.<p>

"Go away, I'm sleeping," Marcia murmured, waving her hand in Milo's general direction. She soon came into contact with his chest and pushed him away.

He chuckled. "You've got an appointment this morning, remember?"

She opened her eyes slightly. "Why is it in the morning?" she asked him.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. "You asked Dandra if your appointments could take place in the morning," Milo replied.

Marcia groaned and rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face into the pillows. "That was a stupid idea," she told Milo, her voice muffled.

"It was your idea, love," he reminded her.

She scoffed. "It couldn't have been. I wouldn't have made such a terrible decision."

He merely smiled softly and shook his head. "Come on, get up," he said, pulling the blankets off of her.

She shivered, but she didn't move. "I'm not going. It's too early," she mumbled.

"You've got to go, Marcia."

"No, I don't," she argued.

"Yes, you do."

"Tell Dandra to reschedule," she ordered. It was too early for anything. Couldn't he just let her sleep?

"Can't do that. Now get up, you're going to be late."

She mumbled something incoherent that he thought sounded vaguely rude, and then rolled back onto her side and sat up, facing him. "I hate Thursdays."

"That's four times you've told me now." And it was. She made a point of telling him every Thursday, and she used it as her main argument for not going. She was so good at arguing that he thought she would have come up with a better argument by now, but knew she was probably too tired to.

"Well it's true." She paused, looking around the room. Something was missing. "You didn't bring coffee with you," she accused.

"No, I didn't."

"Then go get some," she demanded.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Please?" she added.

"Are you going to get ready to go or are you going to go back to bed?"

She sighed. He wasn't going to get her any coffee if she didn't get up. "Fine, I'll get ready."

He surprised her with a quick kiss. "Coffee will be waiting for you downstairs."

* * *

><p>Once they had emerged on the other side of Way VII, Marcia slipped her arm through Milo's, leaning just a bit of her weight on him for support. He said nothing at her sudden show of weakness, and shifted slightly as they walked to make her a little more comfortable.<p>

They walked in silence, occasionally greeting the odd person who waved or said hello on their way to the Wizard Tower. Once there, Marcia placed her hand on the large silver doors and whispered the password. The doors swung open, and they stepped inside.

The floor greeted them, its message skittering across the room as they made their way to the stairs. _Good Morning, Ex-ExtraOrdinary Wizard and Captain Banda!_

Milo helped Marcia onto the first step, and she instructed the floor to rotate on the slowest possible mode. She didn't want to get sick while on the stairs, and its normal speed would most likely cause her to. As the staircase slowed down she could hear wizards above her complaining about how it was going to take ages to get to the Great Hall for breakfast. She thought that they should at least be grateful that she wasn't going top speed, otherwise then they'd be getting thrown off.

It didn't take too long for them to reach the sixth floor, and then the Sick Bay lobby, where Dandra was waiting for them.

"Good Morning, Marcia, Milo," Dandra greeted them cheerfully.

Milo managed a smile and returned the greeting. Marcia only scowled. It was not a good morning. She didn't know what had possessed her to change her appointments to the morning, and she was regretting making the decision.

"Right this way." Dandra stepped back and gestured down the hall, allowing Marcia and Milo to go ahead of her. She followed closely behind them, briefly wondering if Marcia remembered that she had a simple blood test before her treatment today.

* * *

><p>"I'll be back in a bit to change the IV," Dandra reminded them both as she finished hooking the IV onto the IV catheter in the back of Marcia's hand.<p>

Marcia only groaned and waved a hand at Dandra dismissively. Milo was much kinder. "Thank you, Dandra," he said softly.

Dandra smiled and nodded her head. Then she left.

Once she had gone and the door was shut once more Marcia gestured to her bag, which was currently on the ground beside Milo's chair and full of books. She hadn't even needed to point to it, for the few treatments she had had were already becoming routine and he was already picking it up. "Which book?" he asked her.

"_**Magykal**__ Maladies and Cures_," she told him.

"You just want to hear me mispronounce all of the **Magykal** names," he teased, but he pulled out the blue leather-bound book all the same.

She giggled, punctuating the end of the giggles with a slight cough. "Maybe," she acquiesced.

He opened up the book to the place she had marked with her bookmark and began to read. "Chapter Three, Fatal Diseases and Old Mythical Treatments." It was only after he read the title that he wished he hadn't. He didn't want to talk about any Fatal Diseases, not when Marcia herself had one. He wanted to continue to ignore the fact that he could lose her, because if he didn't acknowledge it then he could continue pretending that she was going to recover.

Marcia knew this and sighed, reaching for his hand. "Maybe we shouldn't read _**Magykal**__ Maladies and Cures_," she said quietly.

He agreed and put the book down, his thumb smoothing over her knuckles as he reached into the bag with his other hand and pulled out another book. "How about _Thirteen Treasures_?" he asked.

"I haven't read that one," she admitted.

"What? There's a book Marcia Overstrand hasn't read?" he gasped in mock horror.

"Don't be silly, there are lots of books I haven't read," she scolded him, her tone light.

He glanced at the back of the book. "This one's about Faeries," he informed her.

"Hmm, maybe we should put that one back too. Might be too girly for you."

"If you want me to read it, I'll read it."

"Hmm. Then go on, read it."

He opened up to the first page. "Chapter one. She was aware of their presence in the room before she even awoke. An ominous twitching had begun in Tanya's eyelids, a sure sign that trouble was on its way…"

An hour later, Septimus interrupted the story that Milo was trying very hard not to show his dislike for and Marcia was finding she liked. He knocked on the hospital room door, and entered.

Milo was reading aloud from Thirteen Treasures, a look of utter disgust on his face, and Marcia was reclined against multiple pillows in the hospital bed, holding Milo's hand with the hand that didn't have her hooked to an IV and a look of amusement on her face. Milo stopped reading as Septimus shut the door behind him.

"Would you like to read a book about a girl and some faeries?" Milo asked him, hoping Septimus would take over for him.

"Uh…no, I wouldn't," he replied. Milo sighed disappointedly. Septimus walked over to Marcia's other side and sat down in the vacant chair. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a drugged up cancer patient," Marcia answered wryly. They had her on a lot of medications to control the side effects of the chemotherapy drugs. "But it's not so bad. How was your Safety Committee meeting this morning?"

"How did you know I had a meeting?" he asked, slightly confused.

"Septimus, I was ExtraOrdinary Wizard for a long time, and those in charge of the Safety Committee insisted on early morning Thursday meetings."

She had had early morning meetings? He didn't remember her leaving the apartment until the afternoons for errands and meetings and ExtraOrdinary Wizard stuff, as he liked to call it. "Wait, you had meetings every Thursday morning? I don't remember that."

She smiled. "That's because you were hardly ever awake. I normally woke you up after I got back."

"I just thought you let me sleep in on Thursdays," he confessed.

"Well, maybe I did a little of that too."

"You sure you don't want to read a book about faeries Septimus? It's very…interesting," Milo butted in.

"Stop pretending you like it, Milo, I know you don't," Marcia reprimanded him lightly. "And don't try and pass it off onto Septimus. He has more important things to be doing." She gave Septimus a pointed look. "In fact, he shouldn't be here at all. He's got a Tower to run, and an apprentice to teach."

"Tod's cleaning the Library, and the Tower can wait," Septimus argued.

"Hmm. Ten minutes maybe. Someone will always be by demanding your time, and that you _do something right now_, Septimus."

"Maybe so, but I can at least ignore them, cant I?"

She gave an exasperated sigh. "If you want an angry mob of Wizards at the door, then yes."

Milo chuckled, envisioning just that. "That would be entertaining."

Marcia grinned. "For us? Oh, absolutely. Watching Septimus realize just how hard it is to be ExtraOrdinary Wizard…I'll get the popcorn, shall I?"

"Alright, alright. I get it," Septimus said, putting an end to their teasing before it would escalate further. "But I'm still spending my Thursdays here with you."

Marcia was very touched. "Thank you, Septimus. That means the world to me."

"Anything for you," he replied sincerely. Then, changing the subject, "You know Milo? I would like to hear some of that Faerie story, actually," he said, grinning wickedly at Milo's horrified expression.

Marcia laughed at him. "Yes, do continue Milo," she ordered, amused.

Begrudgingly, Milo opened _Thirteen Treasures_ back up and continued reading.

This time as he read he didn't do a very good job hiding his dislike for the book and both Septimus and Marcia found it highly amusing. It even kept Marcia's mind off her treatment for the rest of the duration.


	6. Hair Loss

A/N: From this point on, things start to get worse and worse for Marcia. Sorry, guys. This chapter is a continuation of the previous chapter and thats really all there is to it. Read, REVIEW and enjoy! Oh, and the Thirteen Treasures book is a real book. I forgot to mention that. The author is Michelle Harrison.

Disclaimer: Septimus Heap and Co belong to Angie Sage

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><p>On the way to Septimus's rooms after her treatment, Septimus was called down to the Great Hall to deal with two disputing Wizards and three entire floors of broken windows. Marcia only laughed as Milo helped her off the stairs. "Told you, Septimus," she said. "The Wizards here will always be demanding your time."<p>

Septimus sighed. "I'd better go settle it then. Tod's in the Library, should you need her," he informed them. Marcia waved him off, and he set the stairs to Double Speed, whizzing down to the Great Hall. Then the purple door swung open for Marcia, and she and Milo went inside Septimus's apartment.

Milo helped Marcia to the sofa straight away, and helped her to lie back against the cushions. Then he wrapped Septimus's large, fluffy purple blanket around her. "Comfortable?" he asked.

"Mmm. Very," Marcia murmured, closing her eyes.

He dropped a soft kiss on her forehead. "I'll be right back." Milo walked into the kitchen and grabbed the clean basin lying on the counter. When he went back into the sitting room he placed it on the floor in front of the sofa, just in case Marcia needed it.

She mumbled her thanks, and shifted slightly so that he could sit beside her. When he did, she repositioned herself so that her head was lying in his lap. Milo played with her hair absent-mindedly. It was very soothing, and soon Marcia found herself drifting off. She took a lot of naps these days, mainly after her treatments. Now that she thought about it that might have been the reason she had asked Dandra for morning appointments. The evening naps had been disrupting her sleep patterns. She didn't think on it too much, however, because she was soon asleep.

Milo continued to play with her hair, and after a little while he held her hand in his, trying to ignore the white bandage that covered the majority of the back of her hand. He let himself space out after that, content with just being with her and not thinking about her illness.

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><p>Before too long Tod came back downstairs from the Library. Seeing Milo and Marcia on the sofa startled her, but she didn't say anything. They had been spending more and more time at the Wizard Tower, especially here, in Septimus's apartment. Tod knew that Marcia was sick, but she didn't know how sick. Whenever anyone had referred to Marcia's illness, they had simply called it "It". She had no idea what was wrong with her, but figured it was pretty serious.<p>

"Hey Tod," Milo greeted her softly, not wishing to wake Marcia.

"Hey," Tod whispered back. "Do you want me to start the fire?" she asked.

Milo nodded his head. He wasn't Magykal, he had no idea how to start a Magykal fire. The warmth from the fire, however, would no doubt help chase away some of the lingering cold that Marcia was always complaining about. Tod concentrated very hard on the fire, and snapped her fingers at the fireplace. At first nothing happened, but then a soft blue flame appeared, and soon there was a roaring blue and purple Magykal fire in the fireplace.

"Thanks."

Tod shrugged and sat on the rug in front of the fire with her Transfiguration book. "No problem. How is she?"

"She's been better," Milo replied, looking down at Marcia. She had a peaceful smile on her face. He was glad to see it. So often her dreams were nightmares, and she hadn't been getting enough sleep anyway. He moved a strand of hair out of Marcia's eyes.

Tod was going to ask Milo what exactly it was that Marcia had, but could tell he didn't want to talk about it so she didn't. Instead she opened her book and began to read, studying up on what she thought was a very interesting topic.

* * *

><p>Milo could tell Marcia was awake before she even opened her eyes. He could also tell that she was about to be sick. As she sat up, he hurriedly reached for the basin and held it in front of her just in time for her to lose the contents of her stomach. She gripped both the basin and his arm tightly, and when it was over he handed her a few tissues from the box on the end table. She hadn't had much in her to lose. Marcia wiped at her mouth furiously as Milo gently took the basin from her, and he collected the used tissues from her when she was done.<p>

"I'll be right back," he murmured, standing up.

She nodded her head, already tightly closing her eyes and laying back down.

Milo made eye contact with Tod before he left. The girl's eyes were wide. She wasn't necessarily frightened, but she was surprised. He could tell that Tod wanted to ask a lot of questions. He shook his head no, and she seemed to understand that this wasn't the time.

Milo washed out the basin and threw away the tissues quickly and thoroughly. Then he grabbed a washcloth from the cupboard inside the bathroom and wet it with cold water, squeezing out any excess water. He made a brief stop at the kitchen to grab a small glass of water and after that he was back in the sitting room. He once again set the basin on the floor in front of the sofa and set the water on the end table. Then he touched the cold cloth on Marcia's forehead, hoping to alleviate some of the headache he knew she was experiencing.

She opened her eyes as the cloth came into contact with her skin. "That's nice," she commented, her voice soft.

"Do you want some water?" he asked.

"Yes, please."

He helped her sit up and grabbed the water from the small table and handed it to her. Marcia's hands were shaking slightly, but she seemed not to notice. Not until she was handing the water back to him, anyway.

She looked down at her hands in surprise, surprised to see them shaking so badly. "Milo—"

He sat back down next to her after placing the cloth and the water on the table again and covered her hands with his. "It'll be okay," he reassured her.

Marcia blinked a couple of times, and nodded her head unsurely. He spoke with such conviction; she could almost believe it would be.

It was quiet until Tod spoke, startling both adults. "Marcia?" Tod asked hesitantly from her spot by the fire.

Marcia hadn't realized Tod was in the room "Yes Tod?" she asked, slightly embarrassed that Tod must have witnessed her get sick. She leaned into Milo and he wrapped his arm around her, cuddling her closer.

"Are you alright?"

"I will be, Tod. I will be," Marcia lied.

Tod somehow knew she was lying, but she didn't call Marcia out on it. Again she wanted to ask what exactly it was that Marcia had, but instead she asked a question about her book. "Do you think you could help me with Transfiguration?" she asked.

"Not right now," Marcia murmured, closing her eyes. She was so very tired.

"Maybe soon," Milo added.

Tod got the feeling that she would be receiving no help from Marcia anytime soon.

* * *

><p>In about three hours or so Septimus was done sorting out the two Wizards and fixing the windows. When he arrived back in his apartment, he went straight to the sitting room, knowing that that would be where Marcia would be. He was expecting her to be asleep, so he was a little surprised to see her awake and sitting up, talking quietly with Tod.<p>

Milo wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Where's Milo?" he asked, entering the room.

"He went to go get lunch," Marcia replied.

Tod giggled. "You mean you yelled at him and forced him to go get himself some food, and not food from the kitchen but from Ma Custard's or something," she corrected.

"Well, he was hovering." She coughed once, and turned to Septimus as he sat down next to her. "Took you long enough," she teased.

"Three whole floors of windows were shattered," he explained.

"It was the two elderly wizards again, wasn't it?" She asked.

"How any two wizards can fight over who goes first when playing chess and end up shattering so many windows is beyond me."

They all laughed, although all Marcia could really manage was a breathless chuckle. She coughed again as the laughter died down and glanced at the frying pan clock on the wall. "It's nearly five o'clock already," she mused, "and I don't have the energy to get up off this sofa."

"Why don't you and Milo stay over tonight? The Visiting Wizard's room is all set up," Septimus suggested hopefully.

"That sounds like a good idea. Tell Milo when he gets back, will you? I'm going to take another nap."

Septimus nodded, and as Marcia closed her eyes and drifted off into what he hoped would be a restful sleep, he adjusted the blanket around her shoulders and stood up. "Come on Tod, lets let her sleep," he said, walking towards the kitchen. Tod got up off the floor and followed him.

* * *

><p>Marcia, unfortunately, could not fall back asleep, and so after Milo had come back and she had sent him to go get her a change of clothes from the Keep and anything else she would need that night she joined both Septimus and Tod at the kitchen table. She was only partially listening to their conversation as they ate. It sounded as if they were talking about Tod's upcoming exams and projects, but she wasn't sure. Instead of paying attention she was pushing her food around her plate with her fork, unable to eat anything. She hated everything about the chemotherapy, especially the nausea and the inability to eat. She was already thinner than she had been when imprisoned in Dungeon Number One, and she had only had a few treatments. Marcia set her fork down and frowned at it, as if it was the source of her problems, and twirled a few strands of hair around her fingers.<p>

Her hair felt brittle, and it came away in her hand. Marcia stared at the clump of hair in shock.

Her hair was beginning to fall out.

Her long, thick, curly hair was falling out because of the cancer and the chemotherapy and there wasn't a way to stop it. She didn't know how to react.

"What do you think, Marcia?" Septimus asked suddenly, interrupting her thoughts.

She clenched her fist around her fallen strands of hair. "I'm sorry, what?"

He could tell something was wrong almost immediately. She had paled considerably, and was staring off at nothing. "Is everything okay?" he asked worriedly.

She blinked. "Yes, it is, why wouldn't it be?" she answered, too quickly.

"You're really pale, are you sure—"

"Yes, yes I'm fine." Marcia stood shakily. She needed to lie down. She felt so very overwhelmed. "I think I'm going to go to bed." It wasn't even six o'clock yet, but she didn't care.

"But you didn't eat anything!" Tod protested, not really understanding what was going on. Septimus shushed her.

"I'll help you—"

Marcia interrupted him immediately. "No, no, I've got it." She could feel the bile rising in her throat and she pushed it down. She needed to be alone _right now_. "Good night," she told them absently, walking off towards the Visiting Wizard's room. She practically slammed the door behind her, leaving a very confused Septimus and Tod in her wake.

Instead of lying down, she all but collapsed onto the bench in front of the vanity. Of all of the possible side effects to get, Marcia had not accounted for hair loss. She hadn't even thought about how she would react if she did experience it.

What should she do? Should she cut it, get rid of it all on her own terms before she lost any more of it? She didn't know what to do, her mind was numb, she couldn't think.

* * *

><p>When Milo finally got back to the Wizard Tower once more, he found Septimus and Tod worriedly discussing Marcia's most recent actions. Septimus quickly explained what had happened, and Milo immediately walked to the Visiting Wizards room. He knocked on the door softly. He didn't receive an answer, but he entered anyway.<p>

Marcia was seated at the vanity, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was emotionless, her complexion paler than she normally was. Milo didn't know it, but she was trying to imagine herself without her hair. She couldn't do it.

Milo walked over to where she was and stopped just behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You alright?" He asked.

Marcia said nothing, only reached up and gripped his hand with the hand that wasn't currently holding the strands of her hair. Then slowly, she uncurled her fist, revealing the loose strands to him.

He gasped involuntarily. "Oh, Marce," he whispered.

"There's no pretending now, Milo," she told him, her voice oddly cold. "I'm losing my hair."


	7. The Following Morning

A/N: So sorry for the late update! Here is chapter 7! hope y'all like it! Like the two previous chapters, I have split this one in two because it turned out super long. And I apologize in advance for anything OOCness. If you think someone's out of character, tell me and I'll revise and edit it!

Disclaimer: Septimus Heap and Co are not mine

* * *

><p>When Marcia awoke the next morning she found herself wrapped snugly in Milo's embrace. She didn't mind it, but he was holding her a bit too tightly, and, she now realized, he had two fingers pressed to the inside of her wrist. She gently pried them off her, hoping she wouldn't wake him. She had been up almost all night and he had stayed up with her, unwilling to leave her on her own when she was being violently sick. She was grateful for that, for he had helped her immensely.<p>

She would have been content to just lie there with her husband until he woke up, but sudden shouting from the kitchen reached her ears and she listened carefully. It sounded like Tod, and she sounded incredibly upset. Wondering what could have possibly upset Tod; Marcia twisted around in Milo's arms and kissed him softly, then pulled out of his hold and got out of bed. She ignored the strands of her hair on her pillow, and reached for her dressing gown, pulling the sash tightly around her and trying to keep the bile from rising. She slipped on the fuzzy rabbit slippers Septimus had given her for her birthday so many years ago and then walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her. On her way to the kitchen she heard footsteps pounding up the stairs to the Pyramid Library. When she entered, Septimus was the only one there, sitting at the table with his head in his hands.

"Is something the matter?" Marcia asked hoarsely.

Septimus didn't look up. "She's very worried for you," he told Marcia after a moment.

Marcia nodded her head sadly as she carefully lowered herself into the chair across from him. As she had suspected, Septimus had told Tod of her cancer. "I know. She's lost so many people in her young life; she doesn't want to have to lose any more."

Septimus could practically hear Marcia's unspoken insistence that she would eventually die. He changed the subject quickly. "What happened last night?" he asked, not really wanting the answer and hoping that she would lie to him. Whatever it was, it had to have been terrible because she had left so suddenly.

Marcia sighed and gestured for him to come closer. There was no point in keeping it from him. He'd find out soon enough anyway, especially if she decided to just cut off her hair and be done with it. He stood and walked over to her, towering over her worryingly. Marcia found that she couldn't find the words to say, so instead she took Septimus's hand and forced it through her hair. Multiple strands came away in his hand, and, horrified, he pulled his hand away. "That happened," she told him softly.

"Your hair," he whispered, staring at the strands in his palm. _Her hair._ What could he say? It was so easy to pretend that nothing was wrong. But if she lost her hair… He looked at her, teary eyed. "Why would you show me this? Why would you—"

She interrupted him as the words to say suddenly flooded her mind. "I'm only getting sicker, Septimus. I know you told Tod that I am going to get through this, but the most likely outcome is that I won't." She paused a moment to let it sink in. "So far the treatments show no sign of working, and now my hair is falling out. What's next, Septimus? My voice, my strength, my—dare I say it—**Magyk**?" She shook her head, trying to get that thought out of her mind. She didn't know what she'd do if she lost her **Magyk**, or the strength to even use it. "I will lose everything to this disease and its treatment unless a **Magykal** cure of some sort is introduced, and we both know that isn't going to happen. I am going to die, Septimus. It's only a matter of time. I need you to stop denying it," Marcia explained softly as she took the strands of her hair away from him. Using her **Magyk**, she burned them away.

"I don't want you to die." He wiped at his eyes, forcing the tears back. He wasn't very successful, and Marcia reached up to wipe away what would likely be the first of many.

"I don't want to die either, Septimus, but it doesn't look as if I'm going to get my wish." She stood using Septimus as support, and embraced him tightly.

He held onto her just as tightly, if not tighter, and silently cried into her shoulder.

* * *

><p>Septimus didn't know how long he spent in Marcia's embrace, but soon after the tears had stopped there was a knock on the purple door to his apartment. He pulled away from her. "That's probably another wizard, telling me I have a meeting soon or demanding I do something," he said, wiping away any trace of his tears.<p>

Marcia attempted a smile. "You should go. You've got very important ExtraOrdinary Wizard stuff to be doing. Don't let a sick old woman keep you from it."

"You're not old," Septimus protested. "And if I could I'd skip out and stay here with you."

"I'd eventually snap at you for hovering, Septimus, like I did to Milo yesterday and most likely will today. I'll be here when you get back, alright?"

He sighed dejectedly. He had hoped she'd agree with him and let him stay. He wouldn't feel too bad about ignoring his duties if it was okay with her. But he couldn't do that, it wouldn't be right. "Alright. See you."

She nodded her head once as he left the kitchen, and once he was gone she sat back down in her chair wearily. Maybe she could go score a few more hours of sleep with Milo before Septimus came back or Tod was finished with the library. Deciding to do just that, Marcia stood yet again and padded off, back towards the Visiting Wizard's room.

Once inside, she shrugged off her dressing gown and crawled back into the bed with Milo, who was still asleep. She snuggled back against him and pulled both his arms and the blankets around her, and let his warmth lull her into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>Not even two hours later Marcia awoke again, this time due to the movements Milo was making in the bed next to her. She turned and moved closer to him, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping her arms around him.<p>

Surprised, he returned the gesture. "I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered against her hair.

"I was already awake," she lied, not wanting him to feel sorry for anything. It didn't escape her notice how Milo drank a little with every meal, and she knew that as her treatment progressed he'd only continue to drink more. He felt so useless, unable to do anything to really alleviate her pain. She knew that that was why he started to drink. His world (and hers, too) was falling apart and though she could accept it and deal with it, he couldn't.

Milo didn't believe her, but he didn't tell her that. "How are you feeling?" he asked her.

Marcia was quickly growing tired of that question. She almost snapped at him, but stopped herself before she did. "Better," she told him truthfully.

"Are you hungry?"

"Not really."

He sighed. "You've hardly eaten anything, and you were up most of the night sick." She really needed to eat something and keep her energy up. If she didn't, they would have to go back to the Sick Bay on a day that wasn't a scheduled treatment and he knew she was beginning to hate it there. So was he.

"Then I'll try to eat something in a little bit." She was comfortable. Comfort was getting harder and harder to find. She wasn't going to pass that up.

"Alright."

It was quiet for a few moments longer, both content to just spend time with the other, when Marcia broke the silence. "Septimus told Tod," she informed Milo quietly. "She didn't take it too well."

"No one has taken it well, Marcia," he pointed out gently.

She didn't have anything to say to that, so she didn't say anything at all.

"Do you know if Alther or Jenna is stopping by today?" Milo asked, changing the subject.

"Alther probably will, and Jenna might if she has any free time." Marcia paused. "Milo?"

"Yeah?"

"Please stop talking."

He chuckled. "Okay, Marce." He kissed the top of her head, and she closed her eyes again.

They got no more than two minutes of complete peace when there was knocking at the door. Marcia groaned. "Go get it," she ordered Milo.

"I would, but you're lying on top of me, dear."

Marcia rolled off of him. "Go," she repeated.

He kissed her gently and tucked the blankets around her. "Be right back," he murmured.

She nodded her head, already closing her eyes.

Milo slipped on his trousers and quickly threw on a red button down shirt, buttoning it on the way to the door.

* * *

><p>True to his word, Milo came back fairly soon. Instead of lying down with her, he sat on the edge of the bed. "Jenna's here," he said softly. "She brought soup." He reached out, intending to lace his fingers through her hair, but stopped just sort of doing so.<p>

Marcia sighed, knowing what he was doing without even opening her eyes. "You can touch my hair, Milo. It isn't going to fall out if you only touch it."

Very hesitantly, he did. "Jenna brought soup," he repeated, carefully stroking her hair so he didn't pull out any more strands.

"And I told you I wasn't very hungry," she retorted.

"Alright, alright. Are you going to get out of bed to go see her?"

"Do I have to?"

"I could send her in here, if you like," he offered.

"Mhmm, yes, do that."

Milo withdrew his hand. Even though he had been careful, a strand of hair still had pulled away. He tried not to think about it and he let it drop to the floor. "I'll be in the kitchen if you or Jenna needs me," he told her as he left.

* * *

><p>Jenna entered the room moments later and closed the door behind her. Marcia hadn't even made the effort to get up. She laid back against the pillows, her eyes closed. She offered Jenna a smile, and though she looked cheerful Jenna could tell something was wrong.<p>

"Hey," Jenna greeted her softly.

Marcia cleared her throat. "Hey."

"How are you feeling?"

She'd been asked that question, what, three times today? Didn't they ever talk to each other? Marcia cracked open her eyes. "No better than yesterday. What can I do for you?"

"Mum wanted me to bring you soup, and I wanted to see how you were doing." Jenna paused in her speech as she neared the bed. "Something's wrong, what is it?"

"I've got cancer, Jenna, next question," Marcia answered sardonically.

Jenna resisted the urge to cross her arms. "That wasn't what I meant and you know it," she said, sitting down in the armchair by the bed.

Marcia didn't say anything for a moment. She didn't really want to talk about her health. "How's things at the Palace?" she asked, changing the subject.

It didn't escape the young Queen's notice, but she answered Marcia's question. "Oh, you know how it is, politics and all," she replied dismissingly.

"Do I," Marcia said wryly. She turned her head towards Jenna. "Haven't you got… I don't know… Queeny stuff to be doing?"

"No."

Marcia raised an eyebrow and adjusted herself so that she was in more of a sitting position. She held up a hand as Jenna tried to help her and coughed a little. "No? Don't tell me you and Septimus are planning on skipping out on your duties just to spend time with me."

"I'm not skipping out, I cleared my schedule for today," Jenna protested.

"Before or after Septimus told you to look after me."

The tips of Jenna's ears, only just visible under her silky dark hair, turned red. She didn't answer Marcia.

"Aha, so it was after," Marcia deduced, a slight trace of humor in her voice. "I suppose you think you're going to be here all day?"

"At least until Septimus gets back, or you want me to leave," Jenna said hurriedly.

"Hmm." Marcia held out her hand to her stepdaughter. "You'll have to help me up then," She told Jenna, reaching a decision.

"I'm sorry?"

"If you're going to be hanging out here for the majority of the day I can't possibly stay in bed."

"I don't want to make you get out of bed…" Jenna hesitated.

"The nausea's gone, for the most part anyway. It's also after twelve. Besides, as the days go by I'm going to be spending more and more time in bed. I should move about while I still can."

Jenna wasn't too sure that this was a good idea, but she helped Marcia up and off the bed anyway.

Marcia pointed to the large black bag by the vanity. "Could you get that, please?"

Jenna nodded and briefly let go of Marcia as she crossed the room to get it. She had to take out quite a few books before she found the lovely purple gown with gold embroidery belonging to Marcia, as well as a plain white smock and belt. "Do you want any help?" she asked, handing it all to Marcia.

"No, no, just—just prop me up, will you?"

With Jenna's help, Marcia was able to get dressed rather quickly, and before long she was cinching the silver belt around her waist. Jenna couldn't help but notice that she tightened it a couple of notches tighter than she used to tighten it.

"Thank you."

"No problem," Jenna replied.

Marcia adjusted her belt, which wasn't really tight enough, and then fiddled with her sleeves and the long gold ribbons that adorned them. Once they were how she wanted them she fixed the lacing on her dress, and looked herself over in the mirror. For a dying woman, she looked good. She needed shoes though. Instead of asking Jenna to get them for her, Marcia crossed the room and knelt down to pick up her furry purple boots. She didn't trust herself to walk in her purple python shoes. As she was kneeling down, she was suddenly overcome by dizziness and she stopped, her hand rushing to her forehead as she gasped. Unfortunately, as she did so she snagged a few strands of her hair, and so when she was straightening up and pulling her hand away she took more than a couple of hairs with it.

Jenna steadied her as Marcia stood again, and led her over to the vanity to sit. She was staring open-mouthed at her hand. It wasn't simply a few pieces, like it had been last night and this morning. Marcia had a good sized clump in her hand. Her hands started shaking, and she let go of the strands of her hair, letting them fall to the floor. "Here, let me put your hair up for you," Jenna offered hastily before Marcia could really react. Maybe if her hair was up she wouldn't be tempted to touch it, or accidentally touch it, and then she wouldn't continually pull out strands of her hair.

Marcia didn't know what else she could do, so she agreed.

Jenna reached into her shoulder bag. Sometimes she carried hair clips. After all, you never knew when you might need to pull your hair up. To her relief, she had one. Very, very carefully, Jenna swept Marcia's hair up into an elegant twist, and placed the clip in her hair, holding it in place.

"Thank you," Marcia murmured.

"Don't mention it," Jenna replied.

* * *

><p>Milo was seated at the kitchen table, his first drink of the day in his hand, when Jenna and Marcia walked in. It was a welcome surprise; he hadn't expected Marcia to get out of bed. Not with yesterday having been so terrible. He pushed his nearly full glass away from him and stood, walking over to them both and taking Jenna's place as Marcia's escort. Then he helped Marcia into a chair and pulled another one next to it so he could sit by her.<p>

Jenna stayed standing. Now that they were all in the same room she didn't know what to say or talk about. Fortunately for her, the brief silence they did have was cut short when they heard sudden pounding down the Pyramid Library steps.

"That would be Tod," Marcia informed them quietly. Even though she had just sat down, she struggled back to her feet, momentarily using Milo for support. "I should go speak to her. She's had enough time to cool down now, and I'm willing to bet she's worried sick."

Jenna and Milo watched her go. Marcia allowed neither of them to help her.

"That your drink, Milo?" Jenna asked after a few moments.

"Uh, yes," he answered. He hadn't thought Jenna would notice.

Jenna understood. If her spouse had cancer and was slowly dying, she'd probably drink too, even though she couldn't stand the stuff.

* * *

><p>Marcia was hardly two steps into the sitting room when she was attacked by a dark-haired blob of green. The wind knocked out of her, she gasped as her arms moved to hug the girl back. "It's nice to see you too, Tod, but don't you think this is a little excessive?" she asked breathlessly.<p>

"You're dying and you've been sick for months and you didn't tell me," Tod retorted.

"I didn't even know until a month ago," Marcia said, defending herself.

Tod pulled away from her. "That's a month you could have told me. You told everyone else but you didn't tell me."

"You're young, Tod," Marcia said, trying to justify her reasoning. "You didn't have to know right away."

Tod's eyes filled with tears as she realized what that meant. "You weren't planning on telling me, were you? I wouldn't have even known that you had—that you were sick until after you had died."

Marcia sighed. "I admit, there are some definite flaws in that plan, but—"

Tod wasn't finished. "My mother had the Sand Sickness, and she died when I was four. She didn't even tell me, so I thought that it wasn't so bad, that she'd get better. But she collapsed one day, and she never—she never got back up," she told Marcia.

"Tod, I'm sorry," Marcia replied softly.

Tod hugged her again. "I don't want you to die. You're like family."

Marcia allowed Tod to hang onto her for only a few moments before she pried the girl off of her and held her at arm's length. "Tod," Marcia began, giving the girl the feeling that she was about to talk to her like a six year old, "I have a cancerous tumor right here." She placed her hand over the area. "Dandra says that it's too large to remove with surgery. Instead, I have to undergo chemotherapy treatments. Do you know what those are?"

Tod shook her head.

"It's a concoction of different drugs and radiation that attack the cancer cells in my body," Marcia explained. "Unfortunately, it can't tell the difference between good cells and bad. Now, this treatment option will only work as long as the cancer cells are responding to it. The hope is that it will shrink the tumor, and then I can have the surgery. If this doesn't work Tod, what do you think happens?"

"They give you another treatment option?" Tod offered hopefully even though she knew she was wrong.

Marcia shook her head. "In the words of the doctors, you make the patient as comfortable as you can. That's it, Tod. Game over."

Tod didn't want that to be true. There had to be something else, something that Marcia just didn't want to do. "What else does Dandra say?"

"Things I wasn't listening to," Marcia joked. She succeeded in getting Tod to laugh. "Now, I'd like to not talk about this cancer of mine. How about we go and—" she broke off suddenly as Septimus ran into the room. "Septimus, what is it?" she asked worriedly.

He hated interrupting like this, but they had a problem. "Tod, come with me," he ordered, ignoring Marcia's question.

Tod obeyed and walked towards him, not questioning it. He sounded panicked, and though she wanted to stay and talk to Marcia she knew she had to help him with whatever the problem was.

"What happened?" Marcia asked again, a greater sense of urgency this time.

This time Septimus didn't hesitate in telling her the truth. "There's been an Incursion," he said, handing Tod her cloak. He propelled Tod towards the doorway with a light shove.

She tried to follow them, but she was still a bit unsteady on her feet. "Where's Milo?" Marcia asked, momentarily forgetting that he was here at the Wizard Tower. "The Drummins?"

Milo entered the room as Septimus and Tod were leaving. "I'm right here," he said, his voice loud and tone serious. He crossed the room towards Marcia and stopped her from going along with Septimus and Tod, who were hurrying out the room and out of the apartment, followed by Jenna, who was insisting that she had the right to know what was going on, as she was Queen.

"Milo, let go," Marcia ordered, although it wasn't much of an order. She was too busy trying to go after Septimus and looking out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the Way even though she wouldn't be able to see it from the sitting room windows. "What's going on?"

Milo couldn't answer her, he didn't know either.

But Alther, who had just floated into the room and had just been down by the Way sort of knew. "An Incursion, Marcia. Something's got through to your Keep, and it's trying to get through to here," he explained.

"_Trying to?_ What do you mean, trying to?"

"Whatever you placed on the Way to **Seal** it yesterday morning is doing a very good job of holding it back, but little bits and pieces of **Magyk** and, strangely enough, rock, are making it through. A few panicked Citizens told the Door Wizard and then Septimus was alerted. He's going to go try and stop it."

"So you're saying that whatever it is its currently in my Keep, trying to get here, and Septimus is going to go off with Tod to stop it," Marcia summarized.

"Yes."

"I'm going too," she decided. Marcia ripped her arm away from Milo with surprising force, and the force she used upset her balance. She nearly fell.

"No!" both Milo and Alther told her forcefully. "You're sick! If it's as dangerous as Septimus fears—"

Marcia pushed Milo away from her. "Something is in my Keep _right now_ and I am going to be there when Septimus goes through to stop it. I am not an invalid. I may have cancer, but I am _not dead yet_." Taking the few seconds she had where Milo was too surprised to stop her from going, she stormed out.

Alther and Milo hurried after her.


	8. Not Dead Yet

A/N: So I'm not actually that happy with this chapter, and I've spent a week and a half on it, but I figured since I was already planning on going back through and revising every chapter heavily when I was done with the story so that no one would have to wait months and months for an update, it would be okay to post right now. Review, review, review people! Please! Tell me what you like, what I'm doing wrong, what you'd like to see, what you hope I'm not going to do with this story, I dont know, anything!

Disclaimer: Septimus Heap and Co belong to Angie Sage.

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><p>Septimus could honestly say he hadn't been expecting this. He had been expecting some sort of serious threat against the Castle trying to get through. This, well, this wasn't it.<p>

Immediately after destroying what was left of Marcia's **Seal** and stepping through Way VII and into Marcia's Hub, Septimus and Tod were greeted with a fierce storm. Okay, so it wasn't really a storm. At least not one of snow, or rain. Was there any such thing as a mud storm? Because that was what it was. And were those gnomes? Septimus grabbed Tod and yanked her back only seconds before three gnomes charged in their direction, followed by one of the Drummins. The mud, dirt, and rock flying around was making it really hard to see and do much of anything, so Septimus quickly cast an effective charm that made them mud-proof, preventing them from being swamped by all the mud.

"What's happening?" Tod shouted over all of the noise, doing her best to peer through the storm. She could just vaguely make out a few more gnomes, and another Drummin.

"I'm not sure!" Septimus yelled back. Gnomes were little pests, in Septimus's—and the majority of the Wizard population's—opinion. He wondered how they could have possibly found one of the Ways, and how they were managing to keep up such a tremendous storm.

"Are those gnomes?" Tod asked, thinking that the little creatures fighting with the Drummins and jumping in and out of the ways looked a lot like the creatures in some of the **Magykal** Creatures books.

"I'm almost positive they are," Septimus replied, accessing the situation. He would have to stop the storm, first and foremost, if they wanted to stop the gnomes. And they would have to stop the gnomes, as a large number such as this would wreak serious havoc on the Castle. Thankfully, it didn't look as though any of the gnomes wanted to get to the Castle. "I don't think they're actually trying to get to the Castle. In fact I'm almost positive they're just messing with the Drummins. See?" Septimus pointed to the gnomes taunting one of the Drummins, just visible through the mud.

"What do we do?"

"We stop the storm, and the gnomes. I'll work on the storm, you get the gnomes."

* * *

><p>Marcia pushed Milo away from her. "Something is in my Keep right now and I am going to be there when Septimus goes through to stop it. I am not an invalid. I may have cancer, but I am <em>not dead yet<em>." Taking the few seconds she had where Milo was too surprised to stop her from going, she stormed out.

Alther and Milo hurried after her.

She was quick enough to make it to the stairs before they did, and even though she knew it would most likely end horribly for her she ordered the stairs to emergency, thankful that Septimus still hadn't removed her authority to do so. Milo reached the stairs seconds after she did only to see a flash of purple before she was gone. There was no point in trying to hop on the stairs; they'd only throw him off at the speed they were going.

"She's going to make herself sick," Milo said worriedly as he and Alther waited for the stairs to slow.

"There's no reasoning with Marcia when she gets it in her head to do something," Alther told him.

Thankfully the stairs soon slowed, signaling Marcia was off and either being violently sick in the Great Hall or on her way to Way VII miraculously without having been sick. Milo jumped onto the stairs, and since he was no Wizard and had no authority of the stairs whatsoever, he had to be content with the slow speed they were stuck on whenever a Wizard wasn't instructing them to move faster.

"I'm going after her," Alther decided, and floated down the stairs at breakneck speed, leaving Milo behind.

When Milo was nearing the sixth floor, he could see Dandra waiting for the stairs, her arms crossed. "What on Earth does she think she's doing?" Dandra asked him angrily, stepping onto the stairs beside him. Since she had a higher authority, she was able to set the stairs to a faster speed.

"There was an incursion," He explained. "How did you know it was her?"

"The first and second times I heard the stairs whizzing by so quickly, I saw Septimus. On the third time I knew it was Marcia following him. She doesn't listen to anything I say, does she? I warn her about the stairs, her Magyk, I tell her everything she can do to get better and not worse and does she listen? No!"

"She tells me to stop pretending she doesn't have cancer when she's doing the same," he muttered as the stairs brought them to the ground floor. He and Dandra hopped off and then took off running across the hall. Marcia wasn't there, and neither was Alther, so she must have made it to the Way without getting sick.

* * *

><p>Marcia stepped off the stairs, the dizziest she had ever been. She steadied herself on the wall briefly, and when she felt the bile rising in her throat she pushed it down, willing herself not to be sick. Nearby Wizards gave her curious glances, and a couple even asked her if she was alright, but as soon as she got her breath back and she was certain that she wasn't going to be sick, she set off for Way VII, very unsteadily.<p>

She was almost there; too, she could see Jenna waiting for Septimus and Tod to emerge impatiently, when Alther caught up with her. "Marcia, stop!" he ordered her even though he knew it wasn't going to do much to stop her. As he suspected, she didn't.

"Whatever is in my Keep I am going to be there to stop it, Alther," she told him, not even glancing in his direction.

"You can hardly stand up. You shouldn't have used the stairs like that," he scolded, slowing to keep pace with her.

"If I hadn't, then Milo would have stopped me. It is my home, Alther. I will be there."

Alther couldn't do anything to stop her, and he really wished that at that moment he wasn't a ghost. "You are in no shape to do much of anything," he retorted. He knew it was a low blow, but he'd much rather see Marcia alive and well. If she kept doing these things and deliberately ignoring Dandra she would only get worse.

She stopped suddenly and spun around. "I don't care!" she shouted, attracting the attention of passersby. She ignored the bewildered stares she was getting. "Septimus can't use so much **Darke Magyk** to **Seal** the Ways since he is ExtraOrdinary Wizard, but I can. And he might need help. If something happens to him, I wo—Sarah would never forgive me," she added in a whisper so no one but Alther would hear. She was about to say more, explain more of her reasons for being there, but caught sight of Milo and Dandra running towards them. "He's fetched Dandra," she said, her eyes opening in surprise. Oh, would Dandra be angry with her. "I have to go, now," she muttered, turning back around. Before they were even halfway to her Marcia made it to Way VII and without so much as a glance behind her she pushed Jenna out of the way and stepped through. Alther tried to stop her manually, but his hand **Passed Through** her and he was very nearly **Returned.** Jenna recovered quickly, but she too was too late to stop her stepmother.

Marcia was practically slapped in the face with mud when she emerged from the Way. She threw her arms in front of her face immediately to protect herself, and cast the same charm Septimus had only minutes previously. What was going on? Mud, a great threat to the Castle? She was going to have to have a talk with Septimus when this was all over. Or maybe not. Quite a few gnomes suddenly passed through in front of her, a couple of them going through Way VIII and another she could clearly see was headed to the stairs leading to the rest of her Keep. So maybe the great threat he feared was a bit justifiable. Before she did anything Marcia peered through the mud storm, trying to see where Septimus and Tod were.

"I've almost got the storm under control!" she could hear Septimus say over all of the commotion. "How are the gnomes coming along?"

Stop the storm; stop the gnomes; that was his plan. A sensible plan, she thought, but did he not see how the gnomes were going in and out of the Ways? Not only did the storm need to be stopped, but the Ways needed to be **Sealed.** Letting Septimus and Tod go about stopping the storm and the gnomes, Marcia set about **Sealing** the Ways. She **Sealed** Way VII first, seconds before Milo and Dandra reached it. She didn't put too much effort into it, however, because Septimus and Tod would need to go back after they stopped this. After that she Sealed Way VIII, and then Way IX. By the time she got to Way X the storm was calming just a little. There wasn't so much mud, but the wind was still wild. As she was **Sealing** Way X, a gnome with another gnome on his shoulders ran by her, the one on the other's shoulders trying to hit her and get her to stop. She kicked the one supporting the other, wishing she had a pointier shoe to kick it with.

By the time Marcia was done with Way XII, her hands were shaking even worse than before, and her muscles were threatening to give out. She felt that at any given moment she would be sick, or collapse, but Marcia still had six more Ways to **Seal,** and many more gnomes to dodge or kick out of her way. Septimus was making progress with the storm, and Tod was trying to stop the gnomes, but, like the Drummins, was only really chasing after them and missing when she tried to **Freeze** them.

Neither Septimus nor Tod even noticed that Marcia had followed them until Tod ran into her. "Marcia!" She gasped as Marcia stumbled away from her, clutching her stomach.

"Tod," Marcia answered miserably. Four more. She had four more. She couldn't stop now. She couldn't be sick now.

Tod tried to push Marcia back towards Way VII. "You shouldn't be here," she told her.

"This is my home, Tod, and you two had me believing some great power threatening the Castle was currently here so I followed you. Now that I'm here I'm not going to leave without helping," Marcia said, swatting Tod away from her.

"We've got it under control!"

"You haven't **Sealed** the Ways yet. At least let me do that!" Marcia resigned herself to pleading. She hated the cancer. She had to stay behind and wait patiently because she was sick and she needed to recover but she already knew she wouldn't recover so what was the point in staying behind? She could still use her **Magyk.** She wasn't useless yet.

"I—"

"Tod, who are you talking to?" Septimus interrupted.

Tod hesitantly looked over in Septimus's general direction and found that she could actually see him through the mud. While she was doing so Marcia moved to Way III. When Tod looked back, she was trying to **Seal** it but she was obviously using up energy she no longer had. Tod realized that Marcia wasn't going to quit until she had it sealed, even at a high cost to her health, so instead of trying to get Marcia to go back until they had this chaotic situation under control she did her best to keep Marcia standing as she Sealed the remaining Ways.

As soon as Marcia **Sealed** Way VI her legs gave out beneath her and she fell against Tod, who couldn't hold up so much weight so suddenly and sank to the floor. At the same time, Septimus finally stopped the storm and everything was visible again. Chaos over, the Drummins were also able to round up the remaining gnomes who weren't currently **Frozen** or clutching bruised stomachs.

Septimus only realized Marcia had followed them when he turned back around. He was just about to scold her for following, but Dandra, who had broken Marcia's **Seal** on Way VII, stepped through with Milo and beat him to it.

"What did I tell you, Marcia?" Dandra asked angrily as she stormed across the Hub, ignoring the gnomes and the mud because she really didn't care. She crouched down next to Marcia and grabbed her wrist, taking her pulse.

"No strenuous activity," Marcia mumbled guiltily, averting her gaze away from Dandra.

"And what did you do?"

"Strenuous activity. I'm fine, really," she insisted as Septimus helped Tod off the floor and Milo took the girl's place behind her, propping her up. She tilted her head back to look at him. "Why did you bring Dandra," she complained.

Milo opened his mouth to explain, but Dandra was quick. "I could hear the stairs from my office. What were you thinking, using the stairs like that? You're lucky you weren't sick!" Dandra scolded before Milo could explain.

"At the time I thought there was a great danger to the Castle in my Keep! I couldn't very well sit by and do nothing!" Marcia protested. She moved to sit up without assistance, pushing Milo away from her and removing her arm from Dandra's grasp. Immediately she regretted doing so, as her head was spinning and her entire body ached. "I told you, I'm fine," she coughed.

Dandra ignored the last little bit and looked at Milo. "She needs rest. Lots of it. Her heart rate is fast, and she's exhausted. She's used too much **Magyk** for the little amount of energy she has," she explained.

"Does she have to go back to your Sick Bay?" Milo asked, desperately wishing the answer to be no. He was really beginning to hate it there. He knew Marcia was too.

"No, not at the moment." Dandra glanced back to Marcia, who was holding her head. "But if she pulls something like this again, she will be if I have to drag her there myself."

"I'm right here, you can talk to me, not about me," Marcia informed them, wincing.

Dandra ignored her. "Rest," She reminded Milo as she stood up. He nodded.

"Is there anything I can do?" Septimus asked.

"Not at the moment, but as Marcia will not be leaving her Keep until her next appointment with me—"

Marcia protested loudly, but Dandra ignored her.

"—You could help them out whenever you aren't doing your ExtraOrdinary Wizard duties." she stood up and wiped her hands on her robes.

"Is there anything I can do right now," Septimus asked, revising his question. He felt so helpless.

"No, because Marcia is going to bed right now." Dandra was dead set in her order and glared at her patient as she said it.

"I've slept away most the morning and it's already in the afternoon!" Marcia protested. She tried to stand as well, but she was so dizzy and her head hurt so she just stayed where she was on the floor. Milo, however, was no longer going to sit by passively and watch Marcia defy Dandra's orders. He stood and then bent down to lift Marcia into his arms. Naturally, she fought with him. "Milo, stop it. Put me down!" She demanded as he lifted her into the air.

"You heard Dandra," he said firmly. "You are resting."

"I don't want to rest!" Even as she said it she knew it was probably a good idea, that Dandra was correct. She had used way too much of her energy. But she had already protested it and so she was going to continue to protest it. "I'm not an invalid, Milo!"

"I don't care," Milo began, walking towards the stairs. "I'm not going to watch you make yourself worse instead of better, Marcia."

Any further protests and explanations went unheard as Milo carried Marcia up the stairs and left the others in an uncomfortable silence.

"You two should clean this mess up," Dandra suggested, breaking the quiet. "Marcia isn't going to be doing anything until Tuesday, her next appointment. I meant to tell them today. Her tumor is showing no signs of responding. We need to up the dose."

"Do you—do you think she'll make it through this?" Septimus asked hesitantly.

Dandra sighed. "I honestly don't know, Septimus. If Marcia continues to go against my advice—and knowing her, that's exactly what she's going to do—she'll only make herself worse and she'll be in no state to receive any treatments. But, if you factor in her tumor and its size, I have to say that the outlook of this going away is in the negative. I'm sorry."

Septimus ran a hand through his hair and turned away from her, hiding his sudden onset of tears. "How long does she have?" Tod asked for him. "If it doesn't work, I mean."

"A month and a half. Two months, three if you stretch it. It all depends on Marcia now, and how much she's going to fight this."


	9. Magyk Loss

A/N: Sorry for the late update! I've recently become obsessed with the movie and musical Sweeney Todd, or more specifically the character Mrs. Lovett, and Instead of writing to continue this, I have already started rewriting chapter one! However, my goal is to finish this story, however crappy it may be, and then rewrite to lengthen it out and make it better, and even change a few things. I cant help but feel as if I'm rushing. Let me know in your reviews if you would like me to finish and then rewrite, or stop and rewrite it now. That might help ease my overanalyzing mind. Oh and this chapter is uncharacteristically short. Sorry. I'm also not too sure this makes sense so bear with me and tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: Not mine. We all know who this wonderful book series belongs to.

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><p>Like Dandra had advised him to do, Septimus Heap did not bother Marcia and Milo for a whole day. He figured that Marcia needed her rest and that he had better let her calm down first before he acted as messenger on Dandra's behalf and told her of her next appointment. So, on Sunday, two days before her next appointment, he paid a visit to the Keep.<p>

The Hub was spotless when he entered, the Drummins having cleaned everything up. But Septimus paid hardly any attention to the state of the Hub. He nodded once to a Drummin who was sweeping, and then headed for the stairs. He stopped briefly on each floor. Milo wasn't in the "fire pit", nor was he on the ground floor. Since the third floor was Marcia's and Milo's bedroom, Septimus guessed that meant Milo was on the second. It wasn't even close to noon yet, and if Dandra had been right about the level of Marcia's exhaustion, she was probably still in bed. He knew how angry his mentor could get. She most likely kicked Milo out of the room the moment he set her down.

As he had thought, he found Milo on the second floor, sitting in one of the arm chairs amongst the many piles of books that littered the room, drink in hand. "Hey," he said loudly, announcing his presence.

"Hey," Milo greeted back. He turned in his chair to face him. "Bad news?" he guessed. It was always bad news these days.

"Well, depends on how you look at it. Dandra wants me to tell you Marcia's got an appointment on Tuesday."

Milo sighed and downed the rest of his drink. Septimus frowned at him, but he didn't notice. "That's bad news," Milo muttered. He looked up at the ceiling. "She's not going to be too happy with that."

Septimus slipped into the chair across from him, silently agreeing. "How is she?" he asked.

"Still exhausted, slightly depressed, and angry as hell," Milo informed him truthfully. "She fell asleep soon after I carried her upstairs and when she woke up yesterday afternoon she kicked me out the room before falling back asleep. She doesn't wish to see anyone."

Septimus opened his mouth to speak, but never got the chance for he was interrupted by a loud thump from upstairs. He too looked up at the ceiling, puzzled. "What was that?"

Milo set his drink down and stood up just before another thump. What was she doing up there? "I think she threw something."

"Why would Marcia need to throw something?" Septimus asked hesitantly.

"I'm not sure."

Septimus stood also, and they both listened in silence. There was one more thump, an angry cry, and then the slamming of a door, followed by hurried footsteps pounding down the stairs. He shared a worried glance with Milo, and moments later Marcia appeared.

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><p>Upon waking, Marcia noticed two things. She felt incredibly rested, finally, although she did have a pounding headache, and she couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was off. But what was off she couldn't tell. As she got out of bed, she pressed her hand to her forehead and frowned. It almost felt like a hangover, but that was silly. She didn't drink. And wouldn't, not with the undesirable side effects that would come with mixing the chemotherapy drugs with alcohol. She reached for her dressing gown and pulled it tightly around her, then slipped her feet into her fuzzy purple rabbit slippers. While walking to the restroom, she noticed something else. She wasn't even the slightest bit wobbly.<p>

It's amazing what a good day's rest can do for oneself.

Yawning, she pushed open the bathroom door and stepped inside. Unfortunately she clumsily tripped over her own feet and crashed into the sink. She cursed as the glass soap dish fell to the floor and shattered, along with the container meant for holding toothbrushes. But that wasn't really a problem. She could just **Repair** the glass shards and get rid of the soap with her **Magyk.** Marcia waved her hand at the mess.

Nothing happened.

Her frown deepened, and she waved her hand again. Still, nothing happened.

As her normally low anxiety level began to rise Marcia dashed out of the bathroom, not even caring that the sudden movement was making her feel nauseous. What was happening? Why couldn't she perform a simple **Repair** spell? Maybe she had just tired herself out with all the **Sealing** she had done the other day. She decided to try something else. Surely she could still perform something as simple as **Summoning** up the hair clip Jenna had given her.

Marcia located the hair clip quickly, and pointed at it. Nothing happened. She didn't even feel anything, not the usual spark she felt within her whenever she performed any kind of **Magyk.**

Instead of going numb, like she had when her hair first started falling out a few days ago, Marcia's mind began to burn.

She couldn't use her **Magyk.**

But there had to be a perfectly logical explanation for why she couldn't do a spell. Maybe it was her headache, and she just wasn't concentrating hard enough. She grabbed the lamp on the bedside table and threw it at the wall, intending to fix it right away, and concentrated very hard. Not a thing changed. She waved her hand harder, but the broken pieces of the lamp would not move. Her heart rate quickened and her breaths started coming in shorter gasps but she forced herself not to cough. She couldn't do that right now. She didn't need that burden right now, for she now realized that the loss of her **Magyk** had nothing to do with how hard she was concentrating. She couldn't just not perform the spell, there was no Magyk left in her. She must have used too much, with too little energy, and now she couldn't use it at all.

Dandra had warned her about this, why hadn't she listened?

Forcing herself to breathe and not cough and not snap like she so desperately wanted to, Marcia rushed over to the dresser and grabbed the hair clip, roughly pulling her thinning hair into it. Then, in a sudden flash of anger, she pushed everything else off the dresser; picture frames, odd trinkets, everything. Most of them broke but she did not care. With surprising speed, she left her bedroom. She needed to find Milo, needed to vent out at someone, she needed someone to understand what she was going through because she felt that if she spoke she'd burst into tears.

She wasn't wrong. After storming onto the second floor and finding both Milo and Septimus, to her relief, she had scarcely opened her mouth to speak before she felt a tear trickle down her cheek. Marcia ignored it. Now wasn't the time to cry. She hadn't cried when she lost her hair, she wouldn't cry now that she had lost her Magyk.

Milo hurried over to her first, and though she was relieved to find him, she was more grateful to see Septimus there because he would understand, and he might even know what to do. She pushed herself away from Milo and pointed at Septimus, unable to speak the words she wanted to say. "I—" she managed, but that was it. So she beckoned him forward.

Right away Septimus went to her. "What happened?" he asked quickly, grabbing her shoulders gently.

She took a deep breath and tried to control the fire burning in her mind. How could she phrase this? "It's gone," she choked out, very annoyed by the second tear to trickle down her cheek. "My **Magyk,"** she elaborated when she realized Septimus had no idea what she was talking about.

"What?"

Marcia pulled away from him too and turned so that she was facing both of them. She spoke quickly, needing to tell them and not wanting to at the same time. "I broke the soap dish," she explained, "And I couldn't fix it. There was nothing there; I couldn't feel my **Magyk** and nothing happened." She tried so hard not to let any emotion into her voice, because if she did then surely she would break, but she didn't succeed and somehow she winded up in Milo's crushing embrace while she cried. Hair wasn't like **Magyk,** she thought bitterly. Hair could grow back. But with **Magyk,** well, that was give or take. Especially if you had a fatal disease. Which she did. This time she didn't push Milo away from her, and gripped the front of his shirt tightly. "I tried but nothing happened. _Nothing happened." _

Milo did his best to stay level headed, not wanting her to climb any further into hysterics. "You knew this could happen," he whispered in her ear. "Dandra warned you—"

Marcia's thread of control snapped. She moved away just enough to meet his eyes and glare at him. She didn't need to be reminded, or patronized. It was bad enough that she was an emotional mess right now and was openly crying in front of them. "I didn't know it would happen to me!" she shouted. "It _could_ happen, she said. Not would!"

Septimus wanted to try and comfort her, but he had no idea what he could do so he hung back awkwardly and left Milo to the task. "Marce—" Milo began, but she interrupted him.

"I am nothing without my **Magyk,** Milo," she told him, her tone oddly dark. "The cancer and its stupid cure are doing this to me. Well I've had enough." As she spoke the words without thinking, she knew they were true. She whipped her head around to look at Septimus. "Tell Dandra that I will not be in her sick bay on Thursday, or any other Thursday after."

Before Septimus could correct her and tell her, "Tuesdays too!" Marcia was heading back for the stairs.

She stopped on the third step to look back at her stunned husband and ex-apprentice. "I am done," she said coldly.

There were many things she hated about the chemotherapy and her cancer, and all of them pressured her into wanting to stop.

The loss of her **Magyk** was the final straw.


End file.
